Take Care of My Baby
by pitchblackharmonies
Summary: Jacob Wells evaluates his life and choices after he kills Paul. Season 1, Episode 9 spoilers.


The only thing Jacob could hear was the crackling of the fireplace, and the sound of his own wrecked cries that bellowed from his chest. The sobs slowed as he held his breath, slowly pulling the pillow from Paul's face. The horror witnessing his work slowly sank in. That was Paul. His Paul. The sobs wracked his body again as he slowly grabbed Paul's face between his hands. It only took a second to take in his pale face, eyes gently closed and mouth gaping open from his attempts to breathe. Slowly but surely, Jacob leaned down, pressing a long kiss into the man's cold, sweaty forehead. Sitting up for a moment, he took in the situation again. Paul's last words swam through his head as he got up off of Paul Torres's dead body.

Jacob's neck snapped up when he heard a car pull up. He had to leave, now. He took one final look down at Paul's body, hating that he had to leave his body at the mercy of the cops. He took another strangled breath and nodded his head.

"I love you too, Paul," he whispered.

It caused a war to surge inside of his chest. He had been denying for a long time that he was even remotely gay. It upset him for the most part, but it took this long for him to realize that Paul had never left him. Paul never gave up on him. Paul was always there when Emma wasn't. He looked up when he heard the front door open and closed, and in a panic, Jacob ran out the back door and onto the veranda. It wasn't a far drop, so he took a running jump, vaulting over the banister and rolling across the ground. Pain surged up his legs, and he groaned a little as he tried raising himself off of the ground. He took a breath and took off into the woods, leaving his car, the body of his best friend… he left it all.

As he ran off from the house, he suddenly realized what had really caused this. Ryan Hardy was much to blame, but if Emma had just picked up the phone…

Anger burst inside of him, and it gave Jacob a rush of adrenaline that pushed him through the woods. He had to meet Roderick on the highway toward the fork. He'd take him where he needed to go. There, he'd find Emma, and he'd settle whatever score he had with her. Betrayal was the deepest seeded feeling he had right now. She had betrayed not only Paul, but him too. Her boyfriend. Tears stung at his eyes as he pushed passed branches on his way to the road.

Paul. That's all he could think about. No matter how much he tried to think about what he would do or say to Emma when he saw her again, he completely overrode anything else. He had just killed his best friend. His first kill was Paul. His first kill was Paul, he kept thinking. It wouldn't stop circling in his head and eventually, Jacob couldn't keep running. He was far enough into the woods now that his father could run and find him if he found out what had happened. Jacob stopped beside a tree, grabbing a hold of the trunk and pressing his forehead against the bark. He let out a loud sob, tears bursting free from his tear ducts.

Love really fucking hurts.

"I'm sorry," Jacob cried out, squishing his eyes closed as hard as he possibly could, "Paul, I'm so fucking sorry."

Jacob couldn't be sure anymore if there was a higher power. He wasn't sure that even if there was a higher power, he'd accept Paul and forgive him for the choices he had made. His fingers gripped tighter on the tree as the thought wretched at his heart. After a second of pulling himself together, Jacob pushed himself slowly off the tree, and as the soft night gust of wind rustled the tree branches above him, he lifted his head toward the sky. It was worth a shot… even if he'd never know if it would come true until he made his way six feet under.

"I don't know if you're there," Jacob whispered to the wind, closing his eyes, "But please… whoever is listening… take care of him. He deserves it, no matter what he has done wrong. I just want to know that you're taking care of his precious soul."

Jacob let out a heavy breath, and there was a tickle on his face. It caused Jacob to hold his breath again, taking slow, steady breaths. The wind that picked up was gentle, and it sent a chill through him, but for a brief moment, Jacob could've almost sworn the breeze that hit his face was warm.

Warm… like the touch Paul had made to his face in his final moments of life, like the fireplace that bore witness to Jacob's inconceivable act of mercy and respect upon Paul and his wishes.

"Take care of yourself, Paul," Jacob choked out to no one, "I'll see you soon. As soon as I take care of Emma. I owe you a lot more than I realized. This is for us. I'm going to do this for us. I promise."

With that, Jacob lurched forward onto his toes and took another lunging run through the forest. It took a while, but he did manage to navigate the woods until he found the road. Much to Jacob's surprise, there was already a car waiting there. He waited for a moment, until the window rolled down and there was a blond man sitting in the driver's seat. No one he knew. Jacob slowly approached, hands still trembling as he put his hands on the frame of the car window.

"Jacob," said the man.

"Are you Roderick?"

The man nodded. "Where's Paul?"

Jacob hesitated, and he said in a low, agonizing voice, "Dead. I had to kill him. Sepsis. He wanted me to."

Roderick was silent for a moment before he nodded his head again, "Get in. I'll take you to sanctuary."

Jacob nodded his head, and as his fingers pulled at the handle and slid into the car, he could practically feel his heart darken. His face went stoic, and he came to the realization that he'd be minutes away from confronting Emma Hill again. Jacob looked over, his face still tear-stained and swollen, and Roderick met his gaze in a very easy-going expression.

"Don't worry," Roderick said, "I heard your voice messages. I know what she is, too."

Jacob nodded. "You understand that whatever I have to do, I have to do it for Paul. I hope you and Joe understand this."

Roderick didn't move his head, didn't even look at him. The only thing Roderick did was let a smile crack on the corner of his lips.

"I know," he said, and the car started moving.

It was about forty-five minutes until the car pulled into the drive of a very large red brick mansion. Jacob hadn't said a word, hadn't cried, hadn't made a move the whole way there. It was by luck that Roderick didn't speak either, didn't ask questions, didn't bother him. Jacob finally craned his neck to the side to look blankly at Roderick and he met his gaze back.

"Wait in the lobby. I'll go find Emma," said Roderick.

"I owe you," Jacob quickly said.

Roderick just smiled back and shook his head, "No, you don't."

He jerked the door open and stepped out, walking in first and into the front doors. Jacob took a deep breath through his nose, the hardness of his gaze never once leaving the doors. He slowly got himself out of the vehicle, closing the door and shoving his hands into his pockets. Making his way to the front of the mansion, he stepped inside of the door way and waited in the lobby like Roderick had instructed.

There wasn't a single feeling inside of him that could forgive Emma. No love was left for her. Jacob felt emptily numb. Paul had filled that desperate need that he had desired. It was that need that Jacob had joined the cult for in the beginning. Little did he know until Paul's final moments that he had achieved that need without much effort. Now it was gone, and all Jacob could think about was cold, well thought out revenge against the two people who took everything from him.

A pair of footsteps were heard along the staircase. Jacob didn't move, but he caught glimpse of short red hair coming down the stairwell behind Roderick, her gaze down and looking very irritated. Jacob's mouth was pressed in a firm, tight line and he took in a deep breath through his nose and let it out in the same manner.

Then, Emma's eyes locked onto Jacob's, and there was a look of horror that crossed her face — and it was satisfying. Jacob's stare was ice cold, hateful, and unforgiving. He tilted his head a little in a sarcastic, nonverbal greeting.

"Hello, Emma."

There wasn't a breath in the room, and Jacob knew this was only the first steps in avenging the empty part of him that was lost underneath the smothering of a pillow.


End file.
